


The Hunt For Blue

by someofthissomeofthat11011



Category: Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 07:44:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15165938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someofthissomeofthat11011/pseuds/someofthissomeofthat11011
Summary: What if people try to figure out who Blue is after that post in August?





	The Hunt For Blue

~ Simon ~

I groan as I press my head against the locker. I really like Blue, but right now part of me hates him with every fiber of my being. It’s really not his fault. Neither of us could have anticipated the consequence of his post or that two months later, people would still be trying to figure out his identity. 

Granted, there have been a lot of ebbs. The first day he had posted it had been pretty bad, but then Frankie Lindon got caught having sex in the girl’s locker room and it was quickly forgotten. Then right after labor day, people were talking about it again until Jamie Krenshaw got arrested for smoking pot outside the gym. We had a bit of a break then. No one remembered Blue or his secret until the end of September. That was probably the shortest lived of all of them, because then someone started a rumor that one of the gym teachers was sleeping with one of their students. But then two weeks ago, Danny Marcuso told his friend that he knocked up his girlfriend and I think so that it would stop being news, he brought up Blue. I mean, that was probably actually pretty clever, but if you get someone pregnant it’s a given that people are gonna talk about you. And instead of dealing with that, he unleashed all of his power as a football player to make sure that people are trying to find out who Blue is. So yeah, I’m kinda pissed at Danny even if I understand why he did it. This has been actual hell. And it’s sticking this time - two weeks later and I’ve heard more people talk about Blue than I ever wanted to.

It’s the Monday before Halloween and instead of buzzing about costumes, people are still trying to figure it out. Only in Georgia would this happen. I bet that if we lived in New York and that post was made, someone would bring freaking rainbow balloons to school and an entire community would rally behind him. Not here. There are a handful of kids that are out at our high school and I couldn’t tell you their names if my life depended on it. They aren’t the kind of people that do anything to stand out and it’s not by choice - it’s survival. I can confidently say that I was the only positive comment on Blue’s post (he got A LOT of comments) and my comment had been debatably neutral since all I had written was ‘THIS!!!’

I am quite possibly the only one that isn’t trying to figure it out and the worst part is, I have to pretend to be curious or I’ll look suspicious. Part of me almost wants to come out, but I like what I have going with Blue and I don’t think I’m ready to know who he is yet or for him to know who I am. He’s kind of my safe space. We can talk about anything and we do. I’ve never been able to relate to someone like this before and all I want is more time before there’s a person behind our emails.

I don’t know that I’m going to have much of a say in it, especially considering his post blew up into this huge guessing game and half the girls in the school have united to try to figure out who he is. Some girl in my grade that wears really thick glasses so she’ll look like a reporter just spent ten minutes asking me questions to try to find out if I ‘left the door open for Satan’ or if I’ve ever had ‘impure thoughts’ about guys. 

Which, yes I have, but I certainly didn’t tell her that. I thought that this would die down with the excitement of Halloween on the horizon, but instead, my Halloween costume was pretty much put on trial. I guess dressing up as a dementor isn’t ‘too gay’, because after a moment of deliberation she moved onto her next question. Is there even such a thing as a ‘gay’ Halloween costume? Isn’t the whole point of Halloween that you can dress up like whoever the fuck you want? Nobody’s supposed to give a shit about extravagant or weird costumes, because it’s freaking Halloween!

I feel like I barely got through that conversation before Abby saved me. I’ve been so on edge since a couple of sophomore girls made it their mission to find out who Blue is and recruited a bunch of people to help them. Though, I really think their efforts are for nothing. I have a feeling that there was a 0% chance Blue would ever give himself away. He’s usually so careful. The least careful I’ve ever seen him was with his post and that was supposed to be anonymous.

I guess our school can’t deal with anonymous. The worst part is, I don’t think they’re gonna give up this time. They are going to keep going and going until they figure out who he is. Their search may last until after we graduate and maybe Blue will become something of an urban legend. Someone no one will believe actually existed. A mental image of freshman, years from now, gathered around a fire during the welcome retreat while their peer mentors tell them about Blue simultaneously makes me laugh and makes me sad. 

I slam my locker shut. I am beyond late for English, but I can’t help it. I’m in a weird place. I don’t know who Blue is, but I feel like I’m in the process of falling for him. Which is ridiculous. Because we only talk via email. But he gets it. He gets what it’s like to be gay in Shady Creek. He gets what it’s like to have to hide who you are. He even gets how hard it is to stay in the closet sometimes. It’s this never ending battle of I SHOULD, but I CAN’T. It sucks. And the idea that I might lose that anyday… well, it’s getting to me.

I’ve been on edge for weeks and it’s pretty obvious to everyone, but it’s not just me so no one thinks much of it. I think at first people thought it was funny, but now every guy in our school is pretty much over it… except for Danny and his cronies who are quick to remind people of the mission anytime the baby is brought up. It’s kind of amusing watching all of these straight guys squirm under the accusation that they might be gay. But more than I’m amused, I’m scared. Scared that someone will realize I am gay. Scared that someone will figure out who Blue is. Scared that this will ruin everything.

When I get to lunch, I realize I’m not the only casualty in today’s attempts to figure out who Blue is. Nick’s already complaining. Why they bother with him, I’ll never know. I know they’ve given Bram and Garrett problems too, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize they are all straight. Garrett literally flirts with every girl in our school and Nick’s been not-so-subtly trying to show Abby he likes her since she moved here six months ago. Bram… I guess I could understand why he might be a suspect, because he barely gives girls the time of day, but he doesn’t really give anyone the time of day. Garrett’s joked that he’s in a relationship with his school work and it’s the most accurate relationship status I’ve ever heard for him.

“This is just ridiculous,” Nick complains. “Why did this kid even have to write that post? I mean, either you’re in or you’re out. You don’t get to have it both ways.”

“Give him a break. He was supposed to be anonymous,” I point out. “Isn’t that the whole point of creeksecrets? Anyone can go on and post whatever they want without anyone knowing it’s them. How could he know that this was going to happen?”

It’s the same argument I’ve had with Blue several times over the past several weeks. It’s so hard not to be angry with Blue when my secret is as much at risk as his is - anyone in the closet is at risk right now. The only reason I have managed to keep myself calm is because I know he didn’t want this and that he feels exceptional guilt over the whole thing. And because he’s impossibly kind and bold and flirty and he always knows how to make me smile. And because the very last thing I want to do is drive him away with my anger. I also feel like I need to be strong for him. I’m stressed enough and I’m not even the specific person they’re looking for. If it’s bad for me, I know it’s 1000 times worse for him. So, I do my best to keep my anger and my fear to myself.

“I just feel like if he’s gonna choose to be gay, he’s gotta commit,” Nick says with a shrug.

“If he’s gonna choose to be gay… who the hell would choose this?” I ask lividly. Too late, I realize it’s probably going to look suspicious that I’m defending Blue like this. Thank God that my friends have seen my pathetic attempts at metaphors, so they know that I couldn’t possibly put together something like that post.

“Geez! What has you in such a shitty mood today?” Nick asks. Could he sound more hypocritical?

“Didn’t you hear?” Abby asks, a small smile on her face. “Courtney Peters cornered him this morning. That’s why he was late for English. She accused him of fraternizing with ‘the devil himself’.” It’s a good thing Abby can be so dramatic, because that immediately lightens the mood. I see Nick nod sympathetically.

Abby had been late to English as well, and thank god she had been, because she saved me from having to answer Courtney’s question about the devil when she ran into us in the hallway. Courtney is one of those people that walks around school trying to save people’s souls. She’s done that for as long as I’ve known her. And I don’t think it’s by choice, I think that she’s supposed to do it because of her religion or something. I try to remember that, but I’m not always successful with that. She’s also kind of obsessed with the devil. Nick made a ‘that’s what she said’ joke in history class when we were in the 8th grade - it was really good for eighth grade. Someone had made a joke about how the British were coming and it slipped out; I still chuckle about it when I think of it. Courtney told him he needed to cleanse himself of the devil if he wanted to go to heaven. In the 8th grade. I guess it’s good that she believes in something so strongly.

After Abby’s defense, lunch is normal, but I can’t stop thinking about what Nick said about Blue choosing to be gay. I never pegged him as someone that wouldn’t be okay with gay people. Sure, I haven’t come out to him yet, but that was because I didn’t want things to change. At least that’s what I told myself. I wonder if subconsciously, I worried that this was a possibility.

I suddenly feel like I am suffocating. There’s only five minutes left of lunch, but they seem like five insurmountable minutes.

“I just remembered, I have to print out my paper. I’ll see you all later,” I say quickly. I dump out my half eaten lunch and practically run from the cafeteria. It’s only once I’m outside of the cafeteria that I feel like I can breathe again.

 

~ Bram ~

I’m short with Nick at soccer practice. I know I have no right to be this upset with him, but I can’t help it. He’s supposed to be my teammate, my brother. But when I look at him, all I can think about is ‘if he chooses to be gay.’ It plays on repeat in my head until I feel like I might explode… or hit something. Jacques described coming out as this never ending war inside his head where part of him says YES, but the other part says NO. I’ve never so strongly felt that. Part of me wants to get it out of the way and just tell everyone I’m Blue. Maybe then some things will go back to normal. I’ve heard more people talk about sexuality in the last two months than I ever wanted to. And most of its not good. But none of it hit me as hard as what Nick said during lunch. 

When we finish warming up, Coach has us run some passing exercises. I pass to Garrett when the exercise calls to pass to Nick which earns me some less than pleasant words from Coach and as a punishment, I have to take a few laps around the field. I try to take that time to push what Nick said to the back of my head. It doesn’t work and when we run the formation again, I channel all my pent up anger into my kick and end up nailing Nick in the head. I didn’t mean to actually hit him. I’m just so frustrated.

Nick’s not hurt, so he’s immediately in my face. “What the hell was that man?” Nick asks. He clasps my t-shirt. 

“Sorry, I guess I made the wrong choice.” I’m surprised by my words and I can see they don’t mean anything to Nick. He doesn’t connect them to what he said earlier and I feel an extra burst of frustration at that. If he’s going to insult an entire population of people, he should at least remember it.

“You got a problem with me?” I can see the fury in his eyes and I feel the sweat on his forehead. I’m pretty sure we’re about an inch away from fighting, but the idea doesn’t seem so bad to me. I’ve never actually been in a fight before, but I feel like I would be justified if we start fighting.

I shove him hard and he stumbles back a couple of steps. I see the pure shock on his face as he regains his footing. Now I know we have everyone’s attention. It suddenly makes me self-conscious and I don’t know what I was gonna say, but now I’m definitely not saying it. “Don’t touch me,” I bite back. It’s the only thing that popped into my head.

Without giving him the chance to say or do anything, I sprint towards the locker room. I hear Coach calling after me, but I ignore him. I know I’m going to pay for that tomorrow, but I can’t handle this right now.

I don’t stop running until my lungs are screaming in protest and it takes an exorbitant amount of effort to breathe in. Even then, I walk briskly in the direction of the locker room, my mind only on getting as far away from Nick and this school as I can.

School used to be my sanctuary. It was the only thing in my life that is easy. Divorced parents - not easy. Being a closeted gay kid - not easy. Black and Jewish - extra not easy. Not to say that some things in school aren’t challenging, but I’ve always been up for that challenge. Because that was the deal. I spend all of my time doing school work or playing soccer and I stay out of the spotlight. In exchange, I get good grades and my secret stays secret. I’ve been pegged as the “quiet, smart kid” and that suits me just fine. Because I don’t want to know who I’ll be if I’m not that. And my greatest fear is that I’m going to find out.

Just as I’m entering the locker room, I hear footsteps running up behind me. I have a decent head start, so I ignore them and grab my stuff from my locker. I don’t bother changing. Time is of the essence. I decide to cut through the school to get to my car, because I don’t want to risk anyone from soccer seeing me.

I don’t move quick enough and someone tries to enter the locker room just as I’m trying to leave. I’m surprised it’s Garrett and not Nick or Coach, but I think that might be a good thing. Garrett might actually let me leave. At least that’s what I think until I see the expression on his face. Coach must have sent him. He tries to block my exit, but I push past him.

He follows me out and it’s not until we’re passing the auditorium that he grabs my arm. “Where’s my ride going?” he asks. I frown. I actually forgot that I told him I’d take him home after practice.

“Ask Nick for a ride,” I shrug. I try to walk away, but he has my arm in a death grip.

“Dude, talk to me,” he pleads.

“Just tell Coach that I’m having a bad day and that I refused to talk to you,” I say angrily. I’m not really angry at him. I’m angry at myself. I’m angry at all the people that won’t let my post be forgotten. I’m even angry at Jacques, even though he’s been nothing but supportive. I know he’s angry and scared, but he refuses to let me see that. He wants to be strong for me and I get that. But what I need more than anything is someone to share this with. I need someone to say they are just as scared as I am.

“Coach didn’t send me,” Garrett says harshly. “I asked if I could check on you. This isn’t like you.”

“Well I’m sorry if I’m not allowed a bad day,” I bite. I really shouldn’t be taking this out on him. It’s not his fault Nick said being gay is a choice and it’s not his fault that I stupidly thought I would be able to anonymously post about being gay without it turning into the Salem witch trials.

“That’s not what I’m talking about. Of course you’re allowed a bad day, but since when do you keep that bad day to yourself? We don’t do that,” Garrett says quietly. There’s something in his voice that makes me stop my escape attempt. “You’re my best friend.” I close my eyes. I know what’s coming. He’s done this before. He reserves the ‘best friend’ card for when I’m doing something that’s really bothering me. “When you moved here, I didn’t have any friends. I was the class clown, because it was easier to be laughed at then it was to admit that I didn’t have anyone to laugh with. You let me in. And not once since we met, has there been something too big or too bad that we couldn’t tell each other. So what’s going on?”

I sigh. He’s not wrong. Garrett and I kinda latched onto each other when we met. We tell each other everything. Except, even from the beginning, I’ve kept this from him. I didn’t think it would be appropriate to introduce myself to him as Bram, the gay kid. The thought of telling him has crossed my mind multiple times since then, but I could never make myself do it. It was one thing when he had no idea that I was hiding something from him; he certainly knows there’s something now. I can’t do this to him anymore. 

I turn to face him. I feel like I’m going to throw up and I’m not entirely convinced that I’ll be able to get the words out. My heart beats in my chest and when I open my mouth, no words come out. Why is this so hard? Garrett had been able to tell me everything about himself. I knew his deepest, darkest secrets. Heck, he told me about his fantasy of a jar of Nutella - no girls, just Nutella. He doesn’t hold anything back with me, so why am I keeping this from him? It’s because we’re so close. I don’t think I’ll ever recover if I lose him, but if I don’t tell him, I’m pretty sure I’ll lose him anyway.

“I’m gay.” My voice is impossibly small and I feel tears prick in the back of my eyes. I don’t look at him. Instead, I look down at the bland tiles on the floor. It’s the first time that I’ve said it out loud and I can’t help the feelings of dread that are coursing through me. I feel like I’ve made a terrible mistake. I should have lied to him.

“Okay,” Garrett says. I can practically feel his gaze on me and I hear him when his feet shuffle. “Okay, thanks for telling me. Now your mood makes sense. I’m sure this is kinda scary for you. There’s a lot of pressure on everyone in this school since that kid-” he cuts himself off. I don’t know what my face looks like, but I know I’m giving myself away. “Oh.” I finally look up at him. “You’re Blue.”

I nod. “I never thought that this would happen,” I admit. “I just wanted to see what it would feel like to be out. For one second, I wanted to feel like I was me. And look at what’s happened.”

“It’s not your fault,” he tries to rationalize.

“Yes it is. I should have known better. I should have known that people wouldn’t let this go. That people would think…”

“That it's a choice?” Garrett guesses. I see his eyes darken as he connects the dots.

I look away. “I know I overreacted with Nick,” I admit. “I just… it’s been so much. No one knew I was gay, so I had no one to talk to about all this stuff. Well, at least not as Bram.”

“What do you mean, not as Bram?” He asks curiously.

A million thoughts rush through my head. I haven’t told a single human being about Jacques, but until now, I never told anyone I am gay. Plus, Garrett doesn’t seem too upset about the gay thing, so maybe he’ll be okay with this too. “I’ve been talking to another gay kid in our grade,” I admit. “As Blue. He doesn’t know who I am yet and I don’t know who he is. I think part of me is afraid to lose him. It’s so easy to talk to him and he always knows what to say. Without fail, he can always make me laugh. He’s really funny, but in a real way if that makes sense. And even though we don’t know each other, I feel like he’s my friend in a lot of ways. I hate that there’s a chance he might be outed because of this.” I realize a little too late that I’m practically gushing.

Garrett looks shocked. He recovers quickly and looks at me thoughtfully. “So here’s what I’m gonna say. You are still my best friend. I don’t care who you love. And I appreciate that you told me this.” He glances at his watch. “Tell you what. I’m going to go grab my stuff from the locker room. What do you say that we hit Waffle House and you can get all this shit off your chest?” He suggests. “I want to hear all about this kid that you’re clearly in love with.”

“In love with?” I splutter. “We’ve been talking for two months!”

“Firstly, I’ve never seen you smile like that before. Secondly, you actually look like you’re glowing right now. That’s love. I want to hear all about him,” Garrett insists. “And I want to hear more about you. Waffle House?”

I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. I almost feel lightheaded with how relieved I am. “That sounds great,” I say sincerely. Even if he’s dead wrong about the love thing, it’ll be nice to talk to him about all this. And he is dead wrong, right? Because… no. Dead wrong. It’s not possible to fall in love in two months, much less over email. But even as I think the words, I’m not so sure they’re true.

“I’ll meet you at your car,” he says. He takes off down the hallway and I’m still smiling. He may be goofy and weird, but I really couldn’t ask for a better best friend.

My smile disappears when someone steps out of a bathroom. I hadn’t even realized where we’d been standing and I’d never considered that someone would be close enough to listen in. The person that left the bathroom is looking at me like Christmas has come early. Without a word, they walk away.

It’s Martin Addison.

I’m so screwed.

 

~ Simon ~

Martin comes back to practice with the biggest shit eating grin on his face. “I have just discovered the identity of our mysterious Blue,” he announces. I glance around and realize I’m the only one paying attention to him. That’s pretty typical. You can only take so much Martin before you start tuning him out. Before he has the chance to repeat himself, I grab his arm and drag him to the hallway. Cal is near the double helixes in the back, hanging something up and he raises his eyes at me when he sees me. I shake my head and he shrugs before he goes back to work.

“What the hell?” I ask Martin once we’re in the hallway.

“What?” He’s looking at me like I’m crazy.

“You were just going to waltz in there and tell us who Blue is? How did you even find out?” My hands bunch into fists and I take deep calming breaths. 

“Because he told someone and I could hear them from the bathroom,” Martin says with a shrug.

That stops me up short. “He told someone?” Is Blue coming out? Has he decided enough is enough? I can’t picture him doing that, especially without telling me first. Maybe it’s kind of vain of me, but I think I deserve to find out who he is from him and not from gossip around school. And I hope he feels the same way. Even if he doesn’t feel exactly the same way and doesn’t fantasize about kissing me, he has to care about me enough to tell me first.

“Yeah, I guess he and his friend were having it out,” Martin says. He’s still looking at me like I’m crazy and I guess that’s probably a reasonable conclusion for him to come to, because he’s not privy to all the crazy thoughts swarming my head.

“What are you going to do?” I ask quietly.

“What do you mean?” I don’t think I’ve ever seen Martin frown before. Even when he’s angry, he has this kind of tight smile on his face. It’s weird seeing him frown. As if the two shouldn’t fit together.

“Are you going to tell people?” I feel like I’m shaking, but I can’t stop.

“Geez, what’s gotten into you Spier?” He asks. “Why do you care?”

“I just feel for the kid. Clearly he doesn’t want people to know or he wouldn’t have posted it anonymously,” I say with a shrug.

Martin frowns. “I guess I never really thought about that,” he admits. “My brother’s gay. He didn’t come out to us until after he graduated and he always said he couldn’t imagine being out at school. I always thought he was being dramatic…”

That surprises me. Maybe this will end up working out. Martin’s not a bad kid and surely if he has a gay brother, he can understand some of the pressure. “So you won’t tell anyone?” I confirm.

He has a weird look on his face. “Are you the kid he’s been emailing?”

I feel the blood drain from my face. “What?” I ask. “What are you talking about? Kid that he’s emailing? Who’s that?” I look away from Martin, feeling like a complete idiot. If he didn’t know before, he certainly knows now.

“So that’s a yes,” Martin grins. “If it helps, I think he really likes you.”

I’m doing my best not to blush, but judging by the look on his face, I’m wildly unsuccessful. “How do you even know about that?” I ask.

“He told his friend all about you.” That weird look in Martin’s eyes is back. “He said you wouldn’t know who he is, but it’s-”

I hold up my hand. “If you’re about to tell me his name, I don’t want to know,” I warn him.

“Why not?” Martin asks. His eyebrows are knit together in confusion.

“I like the anonymity right now,” I explain. I can see from Martin’s expression that he still doesn’t understand. I feel uneasy sharing too much with Martin, but I don’t really see a way around it. “It’s easy to talk to him because we don’t know who we are. We’re able to talk about all this shit without there being a person behind the emails. Once we know… I just don’t think either of us is ready for that yet. You’re not gonna tell anyone about us, right?” It didn’t escape my notice that he hadn’t actually said that he wouldn’t tell anyone and for my sanity, I need to hear it.

“You’re friends with Abby Suso, right?” Martin asks.

“Uh… yeah?” I say uncertainly. Is he trying to change the subject? “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You know, I really like Abby and I would like to get to know her more,” he says slowly. His words sound deliberate and I have no idea what’s happening.

“Okay,” I say. “So talk to her. She’s friendly. She’ll talk to just about everyone.”

“Or maybe you could talk to her for me,” he suggests.

“Why would I do that?” I’m studying him. I feel like I’m missing something really important. It’s one of the things I struggle with. No matter how hard I try, unless someone spells it out for me, I tend to be clueless with stuff like this.

Martin shifts uncomfortably. “You want me to keep you and Blue secret, I want you to help me with Abby.”

That’s when I finally realize what’s happening. “And if I don’t, you’ll what? Out me and Blue?” I ask angrily.

Martin shrugs. “I just think we’re in the position to help each other out,” he tells me.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. “This is blackmail,” I say quietly.

“Geez Spier, lighten up. This will help both of us,” he says. “You rub my back, I rub yo-”

“I’m not rubbing your back,” I warn. I’m not sure if I mean that figuratively yet.

“Look, I don’t want to tell anyone. But I will. This is my one chance with Abby,” Martin tells me. “You want to stay in the closet. Fine. But you know it’s not that big of a deal.”

I laugh without humor. “Not a big deal,” I scoff. “Look at what’s been happening around school and tell me it’s not a big deal.”

Martins shrugs. “So will you help me?”

I groan. This is the very last thing I want to do, but I don’t see that I have a choice. “There’s a Halloween party on Friday,” I say reluctantly. “We’re all going. You should come.” I’m pretty sure I couldn’t sound less enthused if I tried, but Martin looks excited.

“Here. Give me your number. I’ll text you and you can give me the address.” He’s acting like it’s no big deal that he just blackmailed me.

As Martin walks away, I only have one thought on my mind. What the fuck?

After Halloween, I know I’m walking a dangerous line, because other than inviting him to the party, I haven’t really done anything to help him with Abby and when he tries to talk to me at play practice, I find an excuse to walk away.

It’s less than a week after Halloween when we’re on break during play practice that Martin sounds like he’s on the brink of outing me to the whole cast. We’re not exactly being quiet or subtle and I know if I don’t do something and quick, my secret and Blue’s will be out. “Just give me a second,” I plead. He’d just brought up how much his gay older brother would love to meet me. It’s a warning if there ever was one. Abby’s looking at us curiously. I’m pretty sure I’m emanating hostility right now, so I’m sure that’s part of the reason that we piqued her interest. I glance at Martin nervously and then drag Abby outside, far from the school so that we have no chance of being overheard. To Abby’s credit, she doesn’t protest or try to break away from me.

“I don’t know what to do,” I whisper once we’re far enough away. I can hear my voice crumbling and I’m in serious danger of having a complete breakdown right now.

“What’s going on? What was that with you and Martin?” She asks.

The first tear slips from my eye and now I know I’m really screwed. “Martin made a sort of deal with me,” I tell her quietly. I don’t feel like I’m ready, but if I’m going to tell someone, it might as well be Abby. She’s never been anything but supportive and whether I want her to be or not, she’s clearly involved. And I feel like if anyone’s gonna be okay with me, it’s her. “He found out who Blue is and found out that I’ve been anonymously emailing Blue…” I take a deep breath. “Because I’m gay too.” I keep my eyes firmly shut as I keep going. “In exchange for keeping my secret, Martin wants me to get you to spend more time with him. I’m so sorry. I know I’m a shitty person for even agreeing to that. But I didn’t know what else to do.”

Because my eyes are closed, I’m surprised when Abby pulls me into a hug. I’m even more surprised when I see the big smile on her face. “Thank you for telling me this. I love you, ya know. No matter what.” She kisses my forehead and hugs me for a minute. When she pulls back from the hug, she pokes my cheek and I can’t help but smile at the familiarity of that. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Without another word, she goes back inside. I follow her, but I’m in a bit of a daze. I guess I always expected coming out to be this big thing, but that was the least climactic coming out experience I could have had. 

“Martin?” Abby says when she walks in. Shit, shit, shit. What is she doing?

Martin looks up at her hopefully. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Simon and I are going to Waffle House later to run lines. I could really use the help of someone that actually needs to learn lines.” She shoots me an exasperated look. “Do you want to come with us?” Abby asks hopefully. I think she found her calling, because she is a superb actress.

“Yeah, I guess. If you don’t mind a third person,” Martin says. He’s trying so hard to sound like it’s not a big deal that he’s making it painfully obvious that it is a big deal to him.

And thus, a tradition is born. We go to Waffle House a couple of times a week until Thanksgiving. Abby and I haven’t really talked about what I told her that day at play practice, but I kind of feel like that’s a good thing. It’s not like she’s intentionally not talking about it in an awkward way. More so, it’s like she really doesn’t think that it’s a big deal. I kinda love her for that. 

And finally, Thanksgiving is here. Honestly, I’m more excited for four Martin-free days than I am for anything else. 

Everything feels off the day after Thanksgiving. I don’t know if I’m still feeling the side effects of way too much food, but I feel slow and groggy all day. 

When I finally get to bed after playing scattergories until well after midnight, I open my email and smile to myself when I see Blue sent me an email. I expect it to be a continuation of our Thanksgiving chain. We’ve been exchanging sickly sweet emails that make my heart pound. My smile disappears when I see the subject line: ‘Something Happened…”

It takes me a long, long time to open the email and the entire time, my heart is beating in my ears. I don’t know what the email is going to say and I’m terrified to find out. Once I open it, I read and reread it, hoping the words will change.

 

_ FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com  _

_ TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com _

_ DATE: Nov 28 at 11:59 PM _

_ SUBJECT: Something Happened…  _

_ You’re gonna find out who I am if you haven’t already. I wanted more than anything to tell you myself and for it to happen when I was ready for it to happen. _

_ I know I don’t have the right to ask this, but please forgive me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.  _

 

~ Bram ~

It starts with a phone call. It comes in around 9pm. I’m surprised that it’s Nick, especially since soccer is over until pre-season in January and we don’t really talk outside of school. “Hello?” I answer quietly.

“Hey,” he says softly. “How’s it going?”

“Um, fine.” I frown. “Is everything alright?”

“Shit,” I hear Nick mutter. There’s some talking in the background, but I can’t make out what he’s saying or who he’s talking to. “I just wanted to say Happy Thanksgiving.” He hangs up without another word. I look at my phone, wondering if I should call him back. He sounded kinda weird.

Before I have a chance to, my phone buzzes again. It’s a text message this time. I open it and I’m surprised to see it’s Carrie. We worked on a project together once when we were freshmen and I’m pretty sure I haven’t talked to her since.  _ R U OK?  _ I assume that she meant for that to go to one of her friends, so I ignore it. 

I flop down on my bed. Thanksgiving’s been a quiet affair for us the last several years. We always host and my uncle and two cousins come over. Once they leave, I always fall into a post-Thanksgiving funk where all I can think about is how different Thanksgiving has been since the divorce. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Kids always use two holidays as a selling point when they talk about divorced parents, but no one thinks about how having two half Thanksgivings will never add up to a whole Thanksgiving with both of your parents. 

I don’t like basking in self-pity so I resign myself to going to sleep early when I get another text message, this one from an unknown number.  _ I’m here if you need to talk. _ I have no idea who this is and I’m just about to ask, but before I can, someone walks right into my bedroom. “Hey,” I say when I see Garrett. He usually texts before he comes over, but this isn’t the first time he’s just shown up. I sit up straight when I see the look on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Where’s your laptop?” He asks quietly. I point to my desk and he brings it over to me. He sits down next to me on the bed and waits impatiently as I sign in. “Go to creeksecrets.” I do and I look at him expectantly. “Scroll.”

I scroll down and down until I freeze. No, no, no. No. Why now? My mouth goes dry and I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to say anything if I tried. My phone starts buzzing off the hook, but I don’t spare it a second glance. I don’t want to know who’s trying to contact me or what they have to say, because now I know why they’re calling and texting me.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know how this happened. I swear it wasn’t me,” he says. I can see the legitimate fear in his eyes. I never told him about Martin.

“I know it wasn’t you,” I finally manage. “It was Martin.” I look back at my screen, hoping the post will have disappeared. It’s still there.

 

_ November 28, 7:42 PM _

_ ATTENTION STUDENTS OF CREEKWOOD HIGH _

_ I, Bram Louis Greenfeld, have something to say. Over the past three months I have been sitting with a secret. If you are a dude, you have probably been questioned at some point since August about whether or not you’re gay. I want to settle this now. I am Blue. That’s right. I am unequivocally gay - I like buttsex and blow jobs. Sorry to disappoint, ladies. You can put the torches and pitchforks aside and leave everyone else alone, because now you know. And you definitely shouldn’t point fingers at anyone else or accuse anyone else of being gay. Because I am Blue.  _

 

I try to tell myself it could be worse. He could have told people that there’s another gay kid in our school. Or he could have been a lot more graphic in how he outed me. Knowing that it could have been worse doesn’t help me get over the fact that it’s bad.

“Talk to me,” Garrett begs.

I shake my head and I know I’m seconds away from a breakdown. “You should go,” I tell him. My voice is shaky and before he has the chance to so much as move an inch, the dams break and everything comes out.

I’ve read about people crying with their whole body, but I never really understood what that meant until now. I’ve never cried like this - not even when my parents got divorced and believe me, there was plenty of crying that happened around that time. But now, I feel like I am actually crying with my whole body. Some of my sobs rip through me, causing me to shudder. I feel the urge to kick and scream and I’m only just able to repress that. I feel achy and crampy all throughout my body and I don’t see how I can ever make it stop. 

I know Garrett is holding me and I don’t care what this might look like to other people, there’s nothing even remotely romantic about it. For a couple of minutes, it doesn’t matter than I’m gay and he’s straight. For a couple of minutes, it doesn’t matter than it’s kind of taboo for guys to do stuff like this. For a couple of minutes, I am allowed to fall to pieces while my best friend comforts me.

I think I needed this.

Garrett ends up spending the night. Neither of us gets much sleep. Well, Garrett sleeps a bit; I don’t get any. I think Garrett’s worried about me. He might be onto something, because after I email Jacques, I spend hours reading comment after comment on the post. It’s about 50/50. Some people think I’m brave for coming out and think it shouldn’t matter that I’m gay. But the other half pretty much thinks that I deserve to die. I don’t know how to feel about this.

Around 4am, Garrett wakes up and takes away my laptop. We sit in silence for an impossibly long time before I ask him for my laptop back. I almost feel twitchy from my need to read more. “It’s not going to do you any good,” he tells me seriously. “Plus, I think you have other things to worry about right now.”

“Like what?” I ask incredulously.

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that your parents don’t know,” Garrett says dryly. I never explicitly told him that, but I guess it wouldn’t have been hard to piece it together.

“No,” I agree. “They don’t know.”

“And your mom works at the hospital. She bumps into kids from school all the time,” he points out. “I think she’ll want to hear it from you.”

I close my eyes. He’s right; I know he’s right. Ugh! Why does he have to be right? “What if I’m not ready?” I ask him quietly. I feel like a little kid. I just want someone to make this better.

“I don’t think you have much of a choice,” Garrett says sadly. “Martin took that away from you. I can be there when you do it, if you want… if you’re worried it won’t go well.”

I shake my head. “There are some things I have to do alone,” I say reluctantly. I glance at my clock. It’s almost 5. My mom is definitely awake. She leaves at 6 for work and she likes to drink a cup of coffee while she watches the news, so she usually wakes up around 4:30. I stand up. “No time like the present, right? I don’t want you to come down with me, but will you stay?”

“It’s 5am. I couldn’t go home right now if I wanted to,” he points out. “I’ll leave your door open. If you need me, just yell for me.”

I nod nervously and go downstairs. My mom is sitting at our kitchen table. I can hear that the TV is on in the living room, but she doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to it. She’s working on a crossword puzzle. I wonder if this is what she does every morning.

“Hey mom,” I whisper.

She jumps a little and looks over at me surprised. “I wasn’t expecting you to be up,” she says surprised. I never really wake up this early even, when I have school, so her surprise is warranted. I don’t know what I look like, but it must not be good, because concern washes over her. “What’s wrong?”

I take a deep breath and sit down across from her. “I need to tell you something.” I play with my fingers. “It’s going to start to spread around town and I want you to hear it from me.”

“You got someone pregnant.” Her face is pale. “I watched my brother have this exact conversation with our parents. He sat them down and told them everyone at school knew and he didn’t want them to find out from anyone else.”

“Uncle Arthur had a baby when he was a teenager?” I ask surprised. I feel like I should have denied that I got someone pregnant, but it will be obvious soon enough that I’m not at risk for impregnating any one.

“He was eighteen when Greg was born, fresh from high school,” she explains. She looks like she’s on the verge of laughing. “You didn’t do the math on that one? I thought you knew. He’s 42. Greg is 24. What, did you think he and Aunt Shay were older?”

It had never occured to me to try to do the math. “Oh,” I say. I don’t know what else to say. I guess it makes sense and that they decided to wait to have more kids. There’s almost a twelve year age gap between Greg and their two daughters, but I never thought anything of it. “So Aunt Shay was sixteen?”

She nods. “We’ll get through this sweetheart. What’s her name?” She looks disappointed, but I’m surprised at how quickly she was okay with that.

“Shouldn’t you be mad?” I ask uncertainly. I’m stalling and I know it. Somehow it’s easier to go along with it then to come out to her, which is pretty sad. I think I’m a little afraid that she’ll prefer for me to have gotten someone pregnant once I tell her. “I feel like I would be really angry if my kid got someone pregnant at sixteen.”

“Oh, I am angry. But what can I say? Should I yell at you? I don’t think I can make you feel worse than you do right now.” Well, she’s got that part right. “Have safe sex? It’s a little late for that,” she points out.

“It’s not too little late for that,” I say quietly. “No one’s pregnant.”

“Then why did you let me think you got someone pregnant?” She asks incredulously.

I look down at the table. I guess there’s not a better place to break the news to her. This is our bad news table. This was the very table my parents sat me down at when they told me they were getting a divorce. When my dad let my mom take it after the divorce, this was where we sat when they figured out how they were going to split my time with them. This was where my dad told me that he was getting married again. This is where my mom sat me when she told me grandma died. And now, it’s where I’ll come out to her. “I’m gay.”

My mom is silent for a long time. “And other people know?” She asks.

I nod. “This kid at school found out and he told everyone.” I still don’t look at her. I have no idea what to expect.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asks.

“I guess I was afraid that you would think something was wrong with me,” I admit. “That’s certainly the popular opinion around school.” I study the tablecloth. We haven’t changed it out from Thanksgiving, so I can still see where Uncle Arthur spilt some gravy during dinner.

“Hey Paul,” she says. I look up for the first time and I’m surprised to see her on the phone. “Family emergency. I won’t be in today.” She pauses for a minute and glances at the clock. “Okay, well if there’s an outbreak I need to come in for, let me know.” She chuckles. “Thanks. See you tomorrow.”

“You didn’t need to do that,” I whisper. I know it’s flu season and since she’s an epidemiologist, it’s her prime season. Her job basically equates to finding out how many people were infected and how they got infected by various contagious illnesses so that other people might not get infected. In the middle of flu season, she works really long days.

“Yes I did,” she says with a shrug. “They’ll be fine without me for one day. In the mood for cocoa?”

I’m about to agree when I remember something. “Garrett’s upstairs,” I say quietly. “He spent the night.”

“You and Garrett?” She asks uncertainly.

“No!” I’m practically shouting, but honestly, that’s absurd. I love Garrett, but he’s like my brother. “No,” I repeat, quieter this time.

“There’s someone else,” she observes.

“There might be,” I admit. “If this whole thing doesn’t scare him away.”

“And Garrett knows all this?” I nod. “Garrett, you’re welcome to come down for some cocoa,” her voice is loud and it carries through the house.

“Thank Mrs. Greenfeld,” he calls back. He kind of sounds like thunder as he runs down the stairs. Garrett is what my mom calls a bottomless pit and he typically comes running anytime something sweet is involved.

We’re silent as my mom stirs the cocoa. She makes herself a cup of tea and the three of us retreat to the living room. I intentionally choose the sofa chair so that I won’t have to sit with either of them, but it makes it really easy for them to stare at me. I keep waiting for something to happen. Whether it’s anger or acceptance, I just want a reaction.

She turns off the TV and looks at me for several minutes. It makes me uncomfortable, like she’s sizing me up or something. “You know I love you, right?” She says quietly. She’s looking at me so seriously it’s hard to doubt her. “There is nothing you can do that would make me love you any less.”

She looks like she’s about to cry and that makes two of us. “Thanks,” I whisper. 

She gets up and crouches in front of me. “Sweetheart,” she says seriously. “I need you to hear this. There is nothing wrong with who you are. People may try to make you feel like there is, but you absolutely perfect just the way you are. Being gay doesn’t change who you are. It just shows me that you are so much braver and stronger than I thought possible. I am so proud of you.” She kisses my forehead and there’s no stopping my tears now. At least it’s not a full-blown breakdown like with Garrett.

I’m not usually an emotional person, but something about the stress of the last couple of months and then being outed has really broken my ability to maintain my composure. She hugs me for several minutes and I feel better than I have in a long, long time.

I wipe my eyes on my t-shirt as she goes back to the couch. “So tell me about this boy.”

“You told her about Jacques?” Garrett asks surprised.

“His name is Jacques?” My mom asks. I can practically see that she’s mentally going through my yearbook to try to remember someone named Jacques.”

“Oh, it’s not his real name. They’ve been anonymously emailing and bonding over the fact that they’re both gay. They’re totally head over heels for each other,” Garrett says with a smug grin. 

I glare at Garrett, suddenly regretting that I ever uttered the word Jacques around him. “He’s just a boy,” I say grudgingly.

“I betcha he tells you who he is.” Garrett has a dreamy look on his face and I can’t help but roll my eyes. I’ve never seen someone root for a relationship the way he roots for this one. “Monday at school. I betcha he tells you.”

I shake my head. If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that Jacques is not ready to be out. “I doubt I’ll ever hear from him again. If our positions were reversed, I don’t think I’d be able to handle it.”

“I’ve heard you read some of his emails. This kid’s not just going to drop you.” I have a feeling that Garrett will be just as crushed a me if Jacques does start ignoring me.

I shrug. I really don’t want to think about Jacques right now. I’m sure he knows who I am at this point and that’s terrifying. We sit with my mom all day. Some of it’s great. Some of it makes me want to disappear. But by the time I go to bed I feel like I can do anything. School may suck, but at least I have my mom. At least I have Garrett. That’s something I can hold onto.

I spend most of Sunday in my room trying, and failing, to do homework. I don’t hear from Jacques and despite the fact that I knew this was likely, I’m disappointed. Garrett picks me up before school starts on Monday and my terror only increases as we get closer to the school. Am I supposed to say anything? How am I supposed to act?

Fortunately, I don’t have to put much thought into it, because Garrett times it so we’re walking into English just as the bell rings. We both take seats in the back of the classroom. I’m a little relieved to see that Martin’s not here. I don’t think I would be able to handle him right now. 

I can feel that everyone is staring at me. Once Mr. Wise starts his lesson, most people turn to face the front. I can still feel people periodically turning to look at me, but Mr. Wise keeps the whispers at bay for the most part. I glance at the couch and see that Simon is shamelessly staring at me. He’s not even trying to pretend to pay attention to Mr. Wise. He looks away with a slight blush on his face when I make eye contact and I don’t know how to feel about that. I can’t imagine he’s staring because he doesn’t approve of me. He stood up to Nick that day in the cafeteria. I remind myself that Simon stares at everyone. He probably just zoned out.

About 20 minutes into class, Martin arrives. I don’t know if he tries to catch my eye; I don’t look up from my desk to find out.

My day is surreal and when it’s finally lunch time, I’m grateful for a break. I’m surprised when I walk in and see that Garrett is sitting at a different table. He waves me over I glance towards our usual lunch table. Nick looks frustrated, but he’s pointedly not looking up so I have no idea what’s going on.

I take a seat by Garrett. “What’s up?” I ask.

Garrett shrugs. “I just figured it would be better for you to take it slow today,” he explains quietly. “I didn’t want to risk Nick saying something stupid, especially with how your day is going.”

I shake my head. “I really don’t think he would say anything.” I’d long since gotten over what he said and I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean it. He’d just been upset that day.

“All the same,” Garrett shrugs. His eyes narrow and he glares at the entrance to the cafeteria. I follow his gaze and watch as Martin walks in. He starts to walk towards Nick and Abby.

“That’s what this is about,” I realize. Martin’s been sitting with us since Abby, Simon, and him started practicing their lines together. It hadn’t been an arrangement that I was thrilled with, but I dealt with it because Martin hadn’t done anything with what he overheard that day. “You wanted to keep me away from Martin.” Garrett shrugs which is as much of an admission that I’m going to get with him. “So then why is Nick so pissed?”

“Because I told him not to sit with us until he apologizes to you,” Garrett says with a shrug.

I surprise myself and Garrett by chuckling. I don’t know what it is, but something about Garrett making sure Nick knew what he did makes me feel so lucky to have Garrett in my life. I glance back at Martin in time to see Simon usher him to a quiet corner of the cafeteria. What is that about?

I glance at Garrett and stand up. I have to face Martin eventually, might as well be now.

 

~ Simon ~

Everyone is talking about Bram. Even if I hadn’t spent most of my weekend reading and rereading that creeksecrets post, there would have been no avoiding the truth at school today. I feel bad because I haven’t been able to respond to him yet. I really want to, I just don’t know what to say. ‘Sorry you were outed’ seems like a pretty lame response to everything happening and I’m honestly not sure that I’m ready for him to know who I am. But it seems like a double standard for me to know when he doesn’t. Yeah, my brain has been arguing with itself for two days. So I haven’t responded.

I’m ready to punch Martin. He promised. I’ve done everything he asked these last couple of weeks. I invited him to just about everything Abby went to. He started freaking sitting at our lunch table. And all that was for nothing.

I don’t have a chance to talk to Martin until lunch, but I intercept him the moment I can.

“I need to talk to you. Now,” I warn. I don’t give Martin the chance to say no as I drag him to the far corner of the cafeteria. Not many people sit over here, because it’s by the trash cans. It’s as much privacy as we can get in the cafeteria.

“Let go of me,” Martin says. It’s kind of a moot point, because I already have.

“What the fuck?” I ask. “You said you weren’t going to tell anyone!”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Martin insists. “I accidentally let it slip that I knew who he was on Wednesday and these girls told me that if I didn’t tell them, they would tell everyone I’m Blue.”

“I don’t fucking care!” I shout. I take a deep breath because I attracted the attention of one of the tables that are near us. “Why did you freaking bring it up? No one had talked about Blue in weeks. Weeks. But that didn’t matter, because Martin Addison had his chance in the spotlight. Did it ever occur to you that this wasn’t your secret to share?”

“Why do you care? I didn’t tell anyone who you are,” Martin spits.

“Because I care about him!” I’m livid.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he grumbles.

“You had no right to that secret and you had no right to drop any kind of hint that you knew who he was. But you couldn’t handle that, could you?” I try to take deep breaths, but nothing makes me feel remotely calmer. “Seriously, what is wrong with you? You’d do anything for attention, wouldn’t you. Bram didn’t deserve this. I didn’t deserve this. I should have had more time! Both of us should have been able to decide when we were ready for this. And you took that away from us. I can’t fucking believe that you’re standing there acting like this is no big deal after you decided that your popularity was more important than someone else’s life. You don’t get to act like this isn’t a big deal, because you’re not the one that’s gay. You’re not the one that has to show up to school knowing that half the students hate who you are. You can’t possibly know what that’s like or what you did. So do everyone a favor and stay the fuck away from me and Bram. And you can forget about Abby.”

“I don’t think you want to do that,” Martins says. He narrows his eyes. “We had a deal.”

“Yeah. I would help you out with Abby if you kept Blue’s identity secret. You did a really great freaking job with that.” I am so pissed, it’s really hard to keep my voice down and I can see the table near us casting us anxious looks. 

“You’re secret is still on the line,” he points out.

“You know what? I don’t care. I’m done Martin,” I tell him. I feel more scared than I ever have before, but I also feel inexplicably free. He doesn’t have power over me if I don’t give it to him. “You want to out me? Go ahead and out me. There’s nothing I can do to stop you and I can’t do this anymore. Not after what you did to Blue.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, someone climbs on one of the abandoned tables by us. Martin looks up at the person on the table, but my attention is suddenly on someone that is standing just a few feet away from us with a shocked look on his face.

I don’t know how long he was standing there, but by the look on his face it was long enough.

 

~ Bram ~

I’m barely aware when someone climbs on one of the tables in the cafeteria to play music. My mind is swirling with what I just heard. Simon is Jacques. More than that, he apparently struck a deal with Martin to keep my identity secret. And he never said anything. I don’t know if I should feel flattered that he tried to protect me or upset that he didn’t tell me.

I don’t tear my eyes away from Simon until I hear someone call my name. The kid on the table is pointing at me. “I hope you enjoy the show.”

It takes me a minute to understand that the provocative dance he’s doing is for me. I think it’s supposed to look sexy, but it just looks stupid. He’s making moaning noises and it’s clear that even though I think it’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen, other people think it’s hilarious. My face feels hot as people shout out to ask me if I’m turned on or if I like his dance.

After a minute, another person jumps on the table and they pretend to make out. Everyone is laughing now. I feel my heart drop to my stomach. I glance at Simon, but he’s frozen. I guess Garrett and I were both right. I found out who Jacques was today like he thought and Simon clearly wants nothing to do with me like I thought. That hurts more than the kids on the table. I have to get out of here.

I turn and begin to push my way through the crowd of students. They mostly part willingly, but they never take their eyes off of me which makes me feel like I’m making my way through a claustrophobic tunnel. When I’m a few feet from the exit, someone grabs my arm and I guess someone shuts the music off so that they can hear what’s about to happen. Why won’t they just let me leave? Wasn’t this enough? “Stop.” Simon’s voice is barely a whisper, but it reverberates through the quiet cafeteria. There’s not a single peep.

“Why?” I ask. I don’t turn to face him. I can’t.

“Bram,” he says sadly.

“What?” I ask angrily. I finally turn to look at him and I don’t have it in me to care that he’s crying. “Are you going to try to tell me that everything’s going to be okay?” He looks down at the floor. He can’t say that, because he’s not going to do anything to make it okay and he’s one of the few people that could make this better. I knew he wasn’t ready, but that doesn’t make this any easier. “I didn’t think so.” 

I turn away from him and before I can take a single step, he pulls me back towards him. Everything’s a blur, but suddenly I’m aware of his lips on mine. It’s over as soon as it started and I’m painfully aware of the fact that we have every single person’s attention. For once, I don’t care.

This will likely never happen again, so I figure as long as I’m making a complete ass of myself, I might as well do it thoroughly. I lean down and press my lips to his. I’ve never kissed someone before and it’s something that always made me feel self-conscious. I was always worried that I wouldn’t know what to do, but my body seems to know exactly what to do as my hand moves of its own accord to his cheek. And my other hand goes to his neck. A couple of people wolf-whistle and someone, I think Abby, cheers. I’m not sure. I can’t really focus on anything other than Simon.

I never want to break the kiss, but eventually a cafeteria aid coughs and tells everyone they should return to their lunch tables. Reality crashes down on me and I realize that I just made out with Simon in the middle of the cafeteria. It’s mortifying. I don’t care that people know we’re gay, but I couldn’t even show the slightest bit of restraint. I can’t help but smile and it’s equal parts excitement and embarrassment

“We have a project to work on,” Simon tells the aid. He grabs my hand and we walk out of the cafeteria. She doesn’t try to stop us. When we get out to the hallway, I am fully prepared to apologize. He outed himself for me and it’s all because I was behaving like a child. I shouldn’t have pushed him. I know what it’s like to not be ready, but I wanted someone to go through this with. It wasn’t fair of me. “Don’t,” Simon warns.

“What?” I ask uncertainly.

“Don’t apologize.”

“How did you-”

“Because you look sorry,” Simon interrupts. “And you shouldn’t.”

“But you just… and we just… and now…” I’m not capable of stringing together a whole sentence, but Simon seems to understand what I’m trying to say.

“I just outed myself and we just made out in a crowded cafeteria?” He guesses. I nod and try to gauge how he feels about this. His face is completely neutral, so it’s hard to tell. “And what, you think I regret that?” I can only nod. “I’ll admit, the timing isn’t ideal, but I’m not mad. I made the choice to kiss you, because when I saw you walking away, I couldn’t let you go through this alone. You gave me someone that I could talk to about anything, someone that could understand what I was going through. Now, I’m doing the same for you. We’re in this together.” He takes a step closer to me and his hand finds mine. I can’t help but close my eyes. I half expect this to be a dream, but when I open them, he’s still standing in front of me. “Though, I do have one request.”

“Name it.”

“Let’s never make out in front of people again,” he requests.

I can’t help but laugh. “You started that.”

“Yeah, well you finished it,” he retorts.

I grin. I can’t argue with that logic. “I think I can live with no more kissing in public… well, at least in public when there are other people around.”

I look around the empty hallway before I pull him close to me. I rest my forehead against Simon’s before I kiss him again. I really allow myself to feel it this time. There’s no fear, no desperation that there may not be another. There’s no nerves that we’re kissing in front of the entire student body. When I’m not worrying about those things, I’m surprised by how much more intense the kiss feels.

As I kiss him, I actually feel like I found the final piece of the puzzle. I feel strong and like I can take on anything. Because it’s like Simon said: we’re in this together.


End file.
